Searching for the Sun
by Ksiezniczka
Summary: Sideswipe came to Earth to find his brother Sunstreaker, while Tracks came to find his faction that he got separated from. Neither expected to get tangled up with humans, street gangs, or perhaps even ancient legends.
1. Chapter 1

**First chapter of a fanfiction I have been working very hard on, featuring my own characters Madison Ruth Pelligrini and Naomi Ann McFly. It's movieverse, but with obvious G1 and IDW influences (Including the characters Carly and Raul). Next chapter will have elements of the G1 episode "Make Tracks", but after that I plan to take it in a completely new direction.**

**Please tell me what you think! I hope you like it!**

**Transformers (c) Hasbro**

**Naomi and Madison (c) me**

--

_'He's got to be somewhere, I can still feel him... still... feel... Sunstreaker...'_

--

The stereotypical American dream, Madison supposed, consisted of a perfect little family, a golden retriever, a white-picket fence, and a Corvette. And while she was almost positive she'd never get any of the other stuff, she at least had the most important part: that Corvette. Her mother's ex-boyfriend Jeremy had given it to her for graduation. Her mother hadn't kept Jeremy, but Madison Pelligrini had kept the car.

Now, it would be absolutely wonderful if the damn thing would start.

"Come on," she begged it, pleaded it, stroked the steering wheel to butter it up. But it was all to no avail. The shining silver Corvette, beautiful as it was, did not want to budge.

"I don't believe it! I haven't even had this goddamn car for a year yet and it won't even start! Well, that is fabulous, just fabulous!" She shook her frizzy curls (which she hated) in frustration, feeling yet another headache coming on - she had only yesterday been bragging to all her internet friends about her gorgeous 'Vette, and now? Now?!

Sighing, she looked over at the almost-Painted Lady next door, not quite expensive enough to be considered one of San Francisco's famous Victorians. Luckily, the man who lived in that orange house _was _a mechanic. He'd helped her mother's constant string of boyfriends multiple times. Not that Madison knew much about him - she never talked to her mother's boyfriends if she could help it. She hated them all - always trying to win her and her sister Lisbeth over with their false smiles and phony compliments.

But that wasn't important right now. What was important was getting her much-beloved Corvette fixed as soon as possible.

--

"Hello?" Madison blinked, confused, when the person that came to the door was not the mechanic with the grey sideburns, but a pretty young woman with blonde waves going just past her shoulders. It was girls like this who made Madison feel self-conscious about her own hair and body. "Did... did the mechanic guy move?"

The girl laughed. "You mean my Uncle Ben? No, he's at work already! I'm Carly Thornwood," she thrust out a hand to shake. When the shorter, dark-haired girl merely stared at it, Carly laughed nervously and let it fall limply to her side.

"Madison Pelligrini. I live next door. My baby - er, my Corvette - won't start."

Carly sighed. "I think Uncle Ben left one of the trucks here; let me tow it for you. You got a ride home, like from your mother or something?"

"Please," she snorted, "I'm nineteen! Like I want my 'beloved smother' driving me around. I'll call Naomi, at least she has an awesome ride."

"Oh?" the blonde's indigo eyes glittered. "I love cars! If I could afford to sell my hybrid, I'd totally get something cooler! What does your friend drive?"

"What?" Madison narrowed her own golden eyes. She hated small talk. "Uh, a 2002 blue Trans-Am? Look, just tow the 'Vette for me. I'll come along to sign papers or something."

--

Naomi Ann McFly, unlike her best friend since kindergarten (and counting), generally slept in until something woke her up. Today, that something just happened to be a phone call from the aforementioned best friend.

"You're at the where? Irving Street Mechanic? But _why_?!" she asked as she pulled on some socks that didn't match, shaking a Powerbar out of one of them and deciding it was as good a breakfast as anything else. "What do you _mean _the Corvette won't start? Isn't that thing like brand new or something?"

"I've got an idea, Naomi," Madison's voice sounded annoyed in the phone. "Let's pretend I'm not pissed about having to work extra hours to pay for my baby to get fixed, and, and let's pretend you freaking out isn't making it all worse."

"I didn't realise I was freaking out..." Naomi stuffed her feet into old gym sneakers. "Hey, calm down, Mad. The Corvette'll be fine - it's probably just got a dead battery or something, right?"

"Whatever, I don't even care. Just come pick me up?"

"I'll be right over."

--

The Blue Trans-Am sat out in the parking lot on Irving Street, waiting patiently as its owner and her best friend spoke with the mechanic about the Corvette. The Trans-Am, of course, really had no choice but to be patient, as Naomi had the keys, but still, it was remarkably patient.

Finally, it's door opened, and someone stepped into its driver's seat. Unfortunately, this someone was not the familiar blonde girl, but rather a lanky Hispanic boy who was currently hot-wiring the car.

Naomi herself was still inside, looking up at just the right moment to see the Trans-Am being driven away by someone other than her. Running outside with Madison and Carly on her heels, she wasn't quite fast enough, and was greeted with the sight of her car speeding away.

"My car!" the boy hightailing it out of there could hear the ponytailed girl yelling. "That jerk is stealing my car!"

He would have felt bad, but he figured she looked like she could afford a new one. He needed this car more than she did anyhow. Still, just to be sure his conscience couldn't get the best of him, he sped away until he reached the business neighbourhood, rummaging in the glove compartment for enough spare change to park in the structure close to the TransAmerica pyramid. The Trans-Am's tyres squealed as he spun into a parking space on the bottom level, and he jumped out of the car to wait for his heart rate to slow down, leaning on the hood of his new car.

When the adrenaline of stealing the thing finally wore off, the boy - Raúl Fernando Alonso, he was called - popped the hood to inspect the engine. He knew a lot about cars, or at least had been taught a lot by his old man before he'd been kicked out, and wanted to make sure the car was sellable. But...

"What's this?" he held up a red wire that had been lying across the engine, dropping it quickly when he felt its heat through his torn glove. "I don't remember Papá ever showing me a wire like this... Ay, who am I even talking to? Shut up, Raúl!"

He gingerly picked up the wire again, staring at the odd shaped end of it. It looked like it should plug in somewhere, but for the life of him he couldn't see where. He ran his free hand over the car's inner parts, admiring the spotless engine bay at the same time searching for a place to plug the wire in. What was this wire even for?!

Finally, his finger hit something. It didn't exactly feel like a hole, more a small niche near the brake fluid, but it was worth a try. Bracing himself for the worst, he shoved the wire into it. He pulled his hands back quickly, waiting for the car to explode or something, but it didn't even spark!

Sighing his relief, Raúl stared at the engine some more, finding nothing wrong so far.

"Man, you're a beauty..." he sighed. "I'd kill for a car like you! But I need the money more than I need a car... So, c'mon, I guess."

"More than you need a friend?" a syrupy sweet voice surprised Raúl, who gasped and whipped around.

"Wh-who said that?!" He demanded. "Who the hell else is down here?!"

"Turn around, Raúl."

The boy turned and yelped as the Trans-Am began to fold into itself and - he could hardly believe what he was seeing - _stand up!_

"Who are you!?" Raúl shouted. "_What _are you!? How the hell do you know my name?!"

"You _said _your name," the car - or rather, now it was a robot - stretched out his arms like Raúl did when he woke up in the mornings. "Ugh, I have such a kink in my right shoulder! Could you check it for me?" the robot kneeled down even more than it already was.

"Stay back, man, I don't need any more trouble! Ay, Dios mío..."

"Calm down! That is no way for a young man to behave himself! Humans - don't you think that if I wanted to hurt you, I could have done so three times over by now? And how arrogant is it of you to assume that if I wanted to hurt anyone, it'd be a scrawny little punk like you?"

Raúl's chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath. "What are you, man? Er, robot... You're a robot, yeah?"

"What a charming little term, 'robot'..." the robot smirked. Somehow. It actually smirked. "I suppose, yes, you would call me a robot. Or rather, an Autobot."

"Oh, I get it... like... like an automobile robot?"

"Autonomous," the robot - Autobot - corrected.

"Okay, uh... I dunno anything about Autobots, but I know cars alright. Lemme see your shoulder, then, Autobot."

"Tracks."

"What?"

"My name," the blue robot answered as he brought his shoulder as low as he could. "It's Tracks. I came to your planet looking for my comrades, but got side-tracked."

"Comrades?" Raúl stepped closer and stood on his tiptoe trying to see into the shoulder. "So there are more of you!?"

"Supposedly," Tracks said sourly. "I have no idea where any of them are; certainly not around _here_. Unfortunately, a lot of my internal systems got jammed during my rather, er, rough landing."

"Internal systems...?"

"My homing beacon is busted. My transformation cog's wire was loose too, until you plugged it in. Any progress with my shoulder?"

"You've got like three wires in a knot. You want I should untie them or something?"

"Please. Then I need to get back to Naomi so I can explain it all to her - if anyone can help me, she could."

"Naomi...?"

"My driver. The girl you took me from. You _are _going to bring me back, yes?"

"Uh..." Raúl looked away, immediately feeling guilty. "Dammit..."

"Raúl?" Tracks looked surprised, somehow. "Are you okay? You're making the look Naomi makes before her eyes begin to leak!"

"Well, fuck, man, you weren't supposed to be alive!"

"Excuse me?"

"What the hell am I gonna do now?"

"Raúl... what's wrong? Why were you saying you need money?"

"Forget it, man. You wouldn't understand."

"Raúl, I'm your friend. I swear to Primus."

"What?"

"Tell me what's wrong."

"Ng," Raúl rubbed his eye to keep himself from getting too emotional. Dammit, he was so weak sometimes! "It's not easy, man, being on the streets like I am. I tried to survive on my own, I really did, but then I got caught up with this stupid gang, and-"

"Gang?" Tracks gave the boy a blank look.

"Yeah, gang, uh... like a group of, uh, criminals. You know what a criminal is, yeah?"

The blue glowing orbs that formed what Raúl would call Tracks's eyes flashed as the robot nodded slowly.

"Anyway, I got in trouble with one. See, I thought at the time I should join cos I was having trouble scraping enough change together to even eat once a week, and I figured they'd have my back or something instead of try to put me in a foster home like the shelters did. But I just couldn't be one of them! My stupid conscience got in the way! It's just like high school, man, but with guns and shit. I'm too different..."

Tracks hesitated for a minute - he didn't know too much about San Francisco street life, but a quick internet search in his CPU told him more than he needed to know about the kind of life his new young friend was hinting at.

"And the money you said you needed..."

"They told me nobody leaves their gang without paying, either with a large sum of cash, or their life. What the hell am I supposed to do, man? Those pendejos are gonna kill me or something if I don't get them their money by the end of the week!"

"Raúl, calm down. I think I might have a way to help you, if you promise to help me afterwards."

"Ha! Like you could get the money any faster than I could."

"Let me try! I swear that I won't let you die!"

The boy sighed. "Fine, whatever. It can't be any worse than what I could have done. You help me out, and then I help you find this Naomi, yeah?"

"Or how about, I help you out, and then you and Naomi both help me find the Autobots."

"Are you serious?!"

"Raúl, I've told you too much to just leave you!"

"Fine!" Raúl threw his hands up. "Whatever you say, man. As long as she doesn't turn me into the cops or something."

"I'll do what I can."


	2. Chapter 2

**Well, I had intended to get this up last week so it'd be up before RotF, but a lot of things kept me from doing so - Third Eye Blind concert, internet went down at home, my dad's in the hospital, planning for my baby sister's sweet sixteen...**

**ANYWAY, RotF comes out at midnight tonight (who else is going?!), so I did get this posted before! I win!**

**Transformers (c) HasTak, Madison and Naomi are mine.**

--

"I don't think this is gonna work, man," Raúl muttered as he leaned against the window of Tracks's passenger side. The two were on the way to Pier 41, where they were to meet the gang whom Raúl had gotten tangled up with, and it was about the seventh or eighth time Raúl had said this. (Tracks had begun keeping track.)

"Well, of course it won't if you keep being such a pessimist!" the Trans Am answered. Though the two had been talking, it still kind of freaked Raúl out to hear the satiny voice come through the radio speakers over whatever music was playing on Live 105. "And why are you on the passenger side, anyway? I'm not taking the fall for you if you get pulled over for not driving!"

"But I'm not driving!" the boy protested. "_You're _driving! I can't sit in the driver's seat while you're driving!"

"But I'm not using the seat," Tracks pointed out. "I swear, I just don't understand humans sometimes."

"Trust me, man," Raúl answered in a slightly quieter tone, "neither do I."

The plan Tracks had decided on - even with Raúl's insistent reluctance - was that instead of bringing the money, Raúl would just bring _him _to the gangsters instead. After all, Tracks had rationalised, such a beautiful machine as he was surely worth at least double the sum that Raúl owed! (To which Raúl had rolled his eyes, which if Tracks had seen, he hadn't said anything about.) And thus, the two were currently on route to Pier 41, where they would be if nothing went wrong. And what could go wrong, Tracks wondered.

Unfortunately, the minute anyone wonders what could go wrong, something always does. In the case of Raúl and Tracks, this something was sirens and flashing lights behind the Trans Am.

"Shit!" Raúl cursed.

"I told you so," Tracks couldn't resist saying.

"Shit, shit, shit! Your chica must've reported you stolen or something! Shit, what are we gonna do now?! Shit!"

"Stop saying 'shit'! What on earth is 'shit'? It's certainly not going to do us any good if you yell such nonsense repeatedly like that!"

"But the cops-"

"I can outrun the cops."

"What are yo- WOAH!" Raúl was thrust back as Tracks sped over an upcoming hill, narrowly missing being hit by a tourist bus, and turned on a random street. "Where the hell are you taking me, man?"

"Chinatown - we can lose them there easily as long as you don't expel that disgusting fluid from your mouth all over my spotless interior."

"You're crazy."

Tracks had no reply to that but to continue snaking through the roads, eventually coming to a stop in an alley just out of Chinatown.

"Now, Raúl, we just need to stay here for about an hour, alright?"

"Oh, man, I'm so dead," the boy moaned.

--

Madison and Naomi, having really no way to get home (As Naomi's family members worked, and Madison refused to call hers.), were currently sitting and watching the mechanic work on Madison's "baby". Carly was kind enough to at least make them coffee and call the police on Naomi's behalf.

"Today's the worst!" Madison grumbled into her cup. "Now we're both without transportation for a few days."

"You know, we could just walk somewhere," Naomi suggested.

"Yeah, like 20 blocks to Golden Gate Park? No way."

"We could take MUNI."

"MUNI sucks. You know that!"

"I know," Naomi slumped down. "I just hate playing the waiting game like this."

"Hey, uh, Miss... Pelligrino, right?" the mechanic suddenly piped up.

"Pelligrini," Madison corrected. "What?"

"What on earth _is _that!?" Carly exclaimed, looking over her uncle's shoulder.

"You two are mechanics. Shouldn't you know?" the dark-haired girl glared. She should have splurged and gone to an uptown mechanic; she knew it.

"I've never seen anything like it..." the mechanic ran his fingers over something. Out of curiosity, Naomi walked over to look.

"I know, powerful motor, so what? It's a freaking Stingray," Madison continued.

"Unreal!" Naomi exclaimed. "Mad, they're not talking about her motor! You gotta see this... this thing!"

"_'Her'_?" Carly smirked.

Madison blushed as she walked over to where her best friend stood. "Yeah, er, I call my baby a 'her'. Like ships and stuff... omigod, what the hell _is _that thing?!"

Peeking out from just under and to the right of the motor was 'that thing'. It looked almost like a miniature old flathead motor, if a flathead motor somehow merged with some retro cartoonish robot from an old black and white B-movie. Gingerly, she reached out to touch it - and quickly pulled her arm back, sucking on a finger suddenly.

"The damn thing shocked me," she explained when Naomi gave her an odd look.

"And you have no idea what it is either?" Carly asked the two, who shook their heads mechanically in unison. She sighed. "Then we better hope it's not the problem... right?"

--

"What the _hell _is this shit, ya little punk!?"

"Unh!" Raúl grunted as a large young man in an even larger 49ers hoodie socked him in the jaw, the impact causing him to lose his balance and fall backwards. He tried to stand back up, but was stopped when the large teen suddenly sat on his legs, effectively pinning him down. Another teen, this one lanky, the one who had been shouting, continued to berate Raúl:

"What the hell are we supposed to do with this piece of shit car?!"

"'sno'a piec o' shi'," Raúl struggled to protest, finding pronunciation difficult with his mouth now bleeding profusely. He really hoped they hadn't knocked a tooth out or something - he hadn't been able to visit a dentist since before he'd been forced to leave Mamá, Papá, and Lupe. Of course, now was not really the time to be thinking about- "Augh!"

The lanky teen who had been yelling pulled Raúl into a sitting position, fat one still on his legs, by his greasy, unwashed ponytail.

"You stupid piece of shit," the lanky one spat, still pulling on Raúl's ponytail while about three more of his fellow gang members watched from about a yard away. "We asked you for cold, hard cash, not some stupid-ass Pontiac. Now you gotta pay, esé - no one leaves us without paying his due."

Raúl glared, unable to do anything but spit out some of his own blood onto his shirt. What could he possibly say to stop these jerks from killing him!? He had just known this was a stupid idea. Stupid gang. Stupid Tracks!

"Oy, Juan," one of the three gang members who had previously been watching silently with a sickening grin, "I gotta an idea on how the faggot can make himself useful."

"Don' call me tha'!" Raúl's eyes flashed with anger as he attempted to get up and beat the snot out of the speaker, but he was quickly subdued by the lanky one - Juan - and the fat one. "'m no'a fag," he muttered, even as Juan was holding his arms behind him.

"Whatchu say he takes his flashy wheels to do some dirty work for us?" the speaker continued. "After all - that package won't deliver itself, you know?"

"What package?" Raúl's eyes widened, his ability to speak almost fully back as the bleeding slowed. What on earth had he gotten himself into? Why wasn't that jerk Tracks helping him?!

No answer was given, as Juan left Raúl pinned under the fat one to consult with his other buddies. Raúl heard them walking, muttering, heard Tracks's trunk opened and something roughly thrust in. Suddenly, he felt himself being lifted by the fat one, who threw him into Tracks's drivers seat.

"You listen up, fag," Juan grinned sadistically as he instructed Raúl. "You follow exactly what Brandon programmed into your fancy little GPS. You don't stop, you don't run away. When you get there, a chica with cornrows will get the package. Bring us back the money and the wheels, or the bomb we put in the trunk blows all that and you to hell."

--

"Raúl, are you going to talk to me, or not?" Tracks's familiarly sweet voice came through the radio speakers. This no longer freaked Raúl out.

"No."

"Look, I already apologised profusely, but those young men only hit you once. Were you in any real danger, trust me, I would have intervened. Raúl, talk to me, and I mean in sentences longer than one word!"

"What about your stupid plan?"

Tracks sighed.

"That was five," Raúl muttered, glaring out the window at one of San Francisco's many parks.

"My plan was that they'd take me and as soon as you were safe, I would bring them to the police, without revealing myself unless necessary, of course. I didn't expect them to reject me - Pontiacs are definitely not pieces of shit, and even if they were, I'm no ordinary Trans-Am!"

"Well, because you were so stupid, now we're both gonna die unless we do their dirty work! In fact, we probably both will anyway!"

"I think I preferred it when you were talking in short sentences," the Trans-Am muttered.

"Whatever."

"Raúl-"

"That was one."

They drove on in silence for awhile, the only voice coming from Naomi's GPS, which Tracks followed, not wishing to find out if a mere human bomb could hurt an Autobot. Little did he know, it wouldn't soon matter anyway, for the two of them would never make it to their mysterious destination to meet the girl with the cornrows.

"Slag!" Tracks swerved to the side suddenly, knocking Raúl against the window. It didn't really hurt the teen so much as make him even angrier.

"What the fuck was that, man?! What are you do-" he was cut off by an explosion very close to where they had just been driving. Raúl screamed colourful curses in both English and Spanish before finally managing to scream "We're being shot at!"

Tracks suddenly opened his door, swerving to avoid whatever was being shot his way. "Raúl, get out."

"Are you insane?! We're going at like 50 miles an hour, man!"

"Raúl, trust me - I won't let you be hurt!"

The teen hesitated, biting his lip.

"Raúl!"

"Oh, alright!" he quickly undid his seatbelt and leaped from the moving vehicle, landing in a nearby park shrub. It scratched him, but he wasn't hurt badly. He watched as Tracks transformed, shaking a crudely made bomb off his foot, where it blew up in the street, looking much like a home-made firecracker. If a home-made firecracker could blow someone's arm off. Nearby, another robot came into view, this one short, stocky, and downright scary-looking. Raúl froze with fear behind the shrub as he watched this new, spiky-looking robot attack his friend.

What on _earth _had he gotten himself into _this _time?!

-_TBC-_

**God, Raúl, you pottymouth!**


	3. Chapter 3

**For some reason, this chapter didn't give me nearly as much trouble as the last. (I guess it's my ever-present curse of the difficult second chapter.) Even though I kinda sorta really suck at fight scenes. This one I think I did okay, but you'll have to be the judge of that, I'm only the writer.**

**I did my best to avoid any major RotF spoilers for those that haven't seen it yet. (Though I've seen it twice, hahaha.) Of course, I couldn't completely avoid minor spoilers, but I don't think I've included anything that might "ruin" the movie.**

**Transformers (c) HasTak. Naomi and Madison (c) Me.**

--

Raúl cringed as he watched the shorter, "spiky" robot punch the Trans-Am in the face. Yes, the ponytailed boy was angry at Tracks, but he didn't want the Autobot to be beat to death by that... that... what _was _that!?

Tracks tried to dodge more hits, but his opponent, while tinier, was quick. It seemed for every hit Tracks dodged, he received two more blows. And then, finally, the other robot - Raúl didn't care how similar it seemed to Tracks, that thing was not an Autobot - managed to knock the blue mech down.

"Tracks!" Raúl yelled before he could stop himself.

Tracks's optics brightened as he heard his young friend. Unfortunately, just as he heard it, so did his opponent. The evil robot made eye-contact with Raúl - or at least Raúl thought those two red orbs were its eyes - and made a facial expression vaguely similar to a smirk. Raúl gulped - the thing had seen him, and unlike Tracks, he wouldn't be able to take so many robotic punches.

However, at that moment, Tracks swept his leg out in a wide arch, connecting with the other robot's ankles (at least Raúl thought those were ankles), knocking the opponent off balance. The fight was back on. Both robots jumped to their feet, and once again, punches were thrown. The shorter robot was still seemingly more powerful, but with Raúl's life at stake, Tracks refused to give up. He clenched his fist tightly and threw a staggering punch that connected at the side of the enemy's head, which snapped to the side with the force of the blow. Not happy with that, the enemy robot brought his leg up, effectively kneeing Tracks in the chest and knocking the blue robot down for a second time. Before the Autobot could rise up again, the enemy robot stomped a foot onto the Trans-Am's chest, pinning him to the asphalt.

Raúl could only watch in horror as Tracks struggled to get up, but the fight had weakened him, leaving him gaping dazedly like a fish.

But suddenly, the enemy robot fell to the side, narrowly missing Raúl as it, too, hit the ground. A large hole in the side of its arm smoked, as if it had just been shot. Both the boy and Tracks looked up to see a slender-looking magenta robot, glaring at the enemy it had just shot down. Said enemy growled, and tried to get up, but realising it was outnumbered, instead opted to transform and speed away.

"Nasty Decepticon," the newest robot spit venomously, with a distinctly_ feminine _voice.

"Dude, is that your girlfriend or something?" Raúl whispered incredulously.

"Hmmph," Tracks glared. "Most definitely _not._ Arcee, what are you doing here?"

"Saving a certain former aristocrat and his human companion from a Decepticon pounding," she - for Raúl didn't know what to call this "Arcee" but a she - replied nonchalantly. "Was that...? No, it couldn't have been - Ironhide told me he watched him die."

"Whoever it was, I could have handled him myself."

"Riiiight," she gave Tracks a look and Raúl suppressed a smile. The way this feminine robot spoke to Tracks was almost like how Lupe used to talk to him before... well, before he left.

"Anyway, that isn't what I meant. Why are you in San Francisco? Shouldn't you be with Prime - is he nearby?"

She chuckled. Somehow. "Not even close. Prime sent me to find Sideswipe. Last we heard from him, a few months back, he was in Daly City, not too far from this one. But he's a better fighter than me and my sisters combined, so it isn't likely that he's dead. He must be around here somewhere..."

"Hey, uh, Tracks... who's Prime an' Sideswipe?" Raúl asked, but his question went ignored, as Tracks had one of his own:

"Sideswipe is missing?"

"Don't you know?" Arcee answered. "Sideswipe and his brother came to Earth together, but were separated in this planet's atmosphere. After he was sure that Megatron's latest little scheme was foiled, he asked Prime for permission to find Sunstreaker."

"And of course Optimus Prime would say yes."

"Of course. Provided Sideswipe checked in at least once every Earth-month. When he failed to, we began to worry. So Ironhide suggested that my sisters and I split up to look for him. Imagine my surprise to instead find you getting your afterburners kicked."

"I wasn't losing that bad!" Tracks protested.

"You haven't changed a bit, Tracks. Why are _you _on this planet, anyway?"

"I received a message from Optimus offering asylum on this planet, same as you."

"Well!" she looked away. "You're a long way from Optimus Prime. He's about 3,000 miles," she pointed east, "that way. Now if you'll excuse me, I have an idiotic silver Corvette Stingray to find."

With that, she sped off on, Raúl now realised, a wheel instead of feet.

"Hey, Tracks, who was-"

"A silver Stingray..." Tracks mumbled, more to himself than to Raúl, though the boy still heard him. "Raúl - you need to return me to Naomi _now_."

--

"Hey... Naomi? You awake?"

"Yeah...?"

"...I can't sleep," Madison complained. It was currently about 4 in the morning, and she had opted to stay the night at Naomi's house, which while further inland, was not that far from her own.

"Well, I can," Naomi turned over to glare at her best friend. "And I was, you know, until you woke me up."

"You said you were awake, you lying bi- mmph!" Madison's insult was cut short by the blonde girl whomping her with a pillow.

"Go to sleep, Mad. Your Corvette's gonna be fine. Jeez, I have never seen anyone so attached to a car."

"You're one to talk!" Madison exclaimed, throwing the offending pillow back at Naomi and shaking her head to get her curls out of her face. "And I'm not worried so much about them fixing her... it's just that..."

"What?" Suddenly, Naomi was wide awake. Madison never admitted when she was worried, even though that was pretty much all the time, and so Naomi didn't want to miss such a rare treat.

"When that... that _thing _in her engine bay shocked me, I just felt this strange energy."

"...you mean like electricity? I've heard feeling electricity when you're being shocked is quite common, you know."

"Shut up, I meant besides that, obviously! I dunno, never mind."

"Aw, c'mon Mad," Naomi placed a hand on the brunette's shoulder. "I was only kidding. What do you mean, strange energy? What did it feel like?"

"...it sounds stupid."

"Like that's ever stopped me from saying anything."

"Fair enough... it felt like nothing you could ever imagine, Naomi. Like nothing on this planet!"

Naomi gaped. "Madison, if you say you think your car is an alien, I swear we're not best friends anymore. I'm not gonna be friends with a lunatic." She attempted to hold a serious expression, but burst into giggles anyway when Madison glared at her.

"Stop laughing! I told you it sounded stupid. Besides, I wasn't saying that - what kind of alien would look like a car anyway? That sounds even stupider."

"I dunno," the blonde shrugged, suddenly looking very serious. "You remember that satellite hack thing last year, with that kid? Uh, what was his name... Willicky or something?"

"Oh, c'mon, you don't actually believe that crap, do you? The news said it was fake like a week after I told you it looked like photoshop or something."

"Photoshop or not, if an alien can look like that, why can't it look like a car?"

The shorter girl blinked a couple times in disbelief before replying, "First you call me a lunatic, and then you say it's possible that my car is some... some martian?!"

"I wasn't saying she was," Naomi shrugged again. "I dunno, Mad, it's 4 in the morning and I'm tired. Of course I'm gonna say weird things. It's your fault for waking me up."

"I asked if you were awake; you said you w-" Once again, Madison was interrupted, though this time by a car alarm. "Oh, god, what is this, the Tenderloin? I thought you lived in the Sunset, Naomi."

"Hey, that kinda sounds like..." Naomi trailed off, ignoring her best friend's teasing words. Poking her head out the window, she squeaked, "Omigod! Mad!"

"What? Shut up, you'll wake someone up," Madison, too, peered out the window where she could see past her best friend blocking most of the view. The alarm on the car had stopped, but the car that said alarm had belonged to was sitting there in the middle of the street looking as if, aside from some very large scratches, it had never been stolen at all:

Naomi's Trans-Am!

The blonde began to climb out her window onto her fire escape, but Madison grabbed her shoulder.

"Wait, don't! That asshole who stole the car is hiding behind it, I swear I saw him!"

"Good, I can call the police and get that jerk arrested."

"But what if it's a trap?" Madison bit her lip, golden eyes searching Naomi's blue "What if he, like, mugs you or something?"

Naomi considered this as well as anyone who never thought things fully through could at 4 in the morning, and decided, "Then you come with me."

Madison pursed her lips, but didn't protest, following Naomi down the fire escape. When they reached the ground, the scrawny boy stood up behind the Trans-Am, looking extremely nervous.

"He's just a kid!" Naomi gasped. "And he's even skinnier than you, Mad!"

"Ugh, he looks like a bum," the brunette wrinkled her nose.

"You have a lot of nerve showing up here," the blonde walked up and leaned on the hood, glaring at the boy standing on the other side of the car.

"Look, I know you're probably mad," the boy began.

"'Probably'?" Naomi scoffed. "Try 'extremely', kid."

"I can explain-"

"You _stole _my _car_! What's there to explain?!"

"Shut up!" the boy yelled. "You spoiled rotten gringa, will you let me explain? God!"

Naomi and Madison both glared, but neither said a word in reply.

"First off, my name isn't 'kid'. It's Raúl. And secondly, do either of you know where we could find a silver '09 Stingray?"

"...'we'?" Naomi blinked, while Madison replied:

"What, you want to steal my car too?"

"No! Look, you're not gonna believe this, but... your car is a robot. Both your cars. I know it sounds insane, but I swear to god it's true."

"...are you on drugs?" Madison raised an eyebrow.

"I assure you, Raúl is completely sober and telling the truth," a voice came from the Trans-Am. The empty Trans-Am. The empty _talking _Trans-Am. Both girls shrieked. "And if you want to get technical, Sideswipe and I aren't exactly robots as you think of them - we're Autobots, from the planet Cybertron."

The girls gaped at the Trans-Am for a few seconds before Madison whispered, "Holy shit, Naomi, I think you're psychic."

-_TBC-_


	4. Chapter 4

**Urgh, slow chapter is slow. I think part of that, though, is that I had no idea how to end it! Sigh, oh well, I hope it's at least enjoyable for all of you guys; Of course all I can see are my faults!**

**Next one, I'll try to insert some actual, you know, action, okay? I promise. But the exposition had to be done, so yeah.**

**Transformers (c) Hasbro. Madison and Naomi (c) Me.**

--

Madison and Naomi continued to stare at the car in the middle of the street as if it had... well, as if it had talked. Which, granted, it had, but it was still highly unexpected.

"This is so weird," Madison finally spoke up. "I don't trust it one bit."

"This is so cool!" Naomi completely ignored her best friend's ever-present cautiousness. "It's just like 'Knight Rider' or something, wow!"

Raúl gave Tracks a look, not sure if the Trans-Am could see it in vehicle mode, but hoping the Autobot could feel the sentiment. "This little blonde high school cheerleader is supposed to help you?"

"Hey! I'm not a high school cheerleader, I go to San Francisco State, you stupid kid!" The blonde girl jumped to her own defence.

"What!?" Raúl howled indignantly. "I am not just some stupid kid!"

"Are so - what kind of idiot steals a car and then brings it back to its owner?"

"Believe me, I am already regretting that decision!"

"Will you two cut it out!?" Tracks interrupted the two before their fighting could escalate any more. "I have already been attacked by one Decepticon tonight and I am not going to sit here waiting for another while you two settle some petty disagreement. Now, we are going to go get Sideswipe so he can help me explain everything to you."

"Why should we go with you? And why can't you just explain things here?" Madison arched an eyebrow. "This is all giving me a total headache, and I don't like it at _all_."

"Mad," Naomi murmured aside to the brunette, "I think we should listen, and bring him to your car. I really do."

"But-"

"If that stupid jerk is right and he is a robot, then don't you think he would have hurt us already if he wanted to? Or even in all the time I've had him! He's my car, Mad..."

"Fine, whatever," Madison turned her head to the ground. "But I ride shotgun."

"And _I'm _driving," Naomi added. "Because I refuse to sit next to the kid who stole my car."

"Bitch," Raúl muttered, climbing into Tracks's backseat.

"Jerk," she replied, opening the door to get into the front. "Now - Who wants Taco Bell?"

"I'm not hungry," Madison glared at the car some before getting in as well.

"I'll take your share!" Raúl piped up, the hunger that came with living in the streets temporarily overcoming his pride.

"Naomi-" Tracks began to protest, but his driver cut him off:

"I think it's the least you can do is let us eat, er... Trans-Am robot... thing..."

"Tracks," the Trans-Am corrected. "Naomi, you may call me Tracks."

--

_'He's close by, I just know it! Now, if I could just... if I could... just... nn...'_

--

After Naomi and Raúl had eaten (which Tracks thought took way too long), the quartet finally made it to the Irving Street mechanic place. Tracks kicked his organic companions out in order to transform, and connected some wires from his arm to the electronic sliding doors, hoping to override the inferior human systems.

"Told you he was a robot," Raúl couldn't resist whispering towards Naomi, who rolled her eyes.

"It looks almost human..." Madison shuddered. "That's so creepy..."

"Ah, here it goes," Tracks muttered to himself as he finally got the door open. Noticing that the ceilings in the garage were high, he crawled through the front section of the building (rather clumsily) to the back, followed by the humans. "Sideswipe, are you in here?"

"Who's there?!" a rather familiar voice yelled back, clearly startled. "Don't come near me - I'll call the police; don't think I won't!"

"Now look what you did," the brunette girl grumbled, still not fully liking or trusting this new development. "Uh, Carly, right?"

"M-Madison?" Carly stepped out from the shadows, looking pale as a ghost. "What on earth _is _that thing?!"

"My car," Naomi answered sheepishly, shifting weight from one foot to another.

Tracks stooped down to look Carly in the eye, hoping to calm the girl down. "Don't be frightened, I won't hurt you if you don't tell anyone we were here."

"Like anyone would believe me! What the hell is going on?"

"I tried asking that, he won't tell us," Madison shrugged. "All I know is he thinks my baby is, well, like him."

"The Corvette?" Carly asked, all the while attempting to calm herself down. "Funny thing about it, it tried to get out. Started its engine around sundown."

"What? Really? My engine works?"

"Well, not exactly... It wouldn't start for us all day, so when it did that, Uncle Ben disabled it and took the motor out..."

Naomi butt in, "Whatever, where is it?"

"Right over here," Carly gulped and walked the three humans and giant, crouching robot - she couldn't wrap her head around a robot in her uncle's garage - over to where the Stingray sat with its hood wide open, engine on a table-type thing nearby.

"Sideswipe..." Tracks breathed, awed. "Is it really you?"

"What if she's not-" Madison began with yet another protest, but was cut off when "she" replied in a distinctly non-feminine voice:

"Prissybot? That you? What are you doing getting the humans involved?"

"Gyah!" Madison exclaimed, Carly echoing the sentiment with a gasp.

"Can you transform, too?" Raúl asked. "Wait, don't answer that - lemme put your motor back in or something."

"No need, I'll do it myself," the Corvette started to morph, to _transform_, into a silver robot, who was somehow even taller than Tracks. Sideswipe - if that was really this cars name - had to sit on his knees, if they could be called that, and even still stoop down in order to fit inside. He reached out to grab the engine, fumbling to attach it to his own back. "Hey, prissybot, help a mech out, will ya?"

"I really wish you wouldn't call me that," Tracks glared, but still obliged, moving around behind the new robot to help re-attach the motor.

"My baby..." Madison gasped. "She's a boy..."

"Well, not technically, by human standards anyway..." Sideswipe shrugged, then winced. "Ow, be careful back there!"

"Shut up; I'm not a medic!"

"Why, are you afraid of men?" the Corvette ignored Tracks to ask his driver, then tapped his own head with a finger. "What's that called again? Stupid wifi, go faster."

"No!" the brunette girl replied indignantly. "I'm not afraid of them! I just don't like them!"

"Why not? They're the same as you, aren't they?"

"Because all men are lying bastards who are not to b-"

"Androphobia!" Sideswipe suddenly exclaimed, causing his driver to gape with disbelief. "Sorry, what were you saying?"

"He's supposed to be some mighty soldier or whatever?" Raúl asked Tracks, grinning. "He's just some idio- woah!" He screamed and fell on his bottom when suddenly something that looked like a blade was only inches from his face - and attached to Sideswipe's arm. Raúl thought he saw Sideswipe grin, but with these robotic faces, it was still hard to tell.

"Yeah, I've still got it," Sideswipe told himself cheekily before retracting his weapon. Behind him, Tracks made a gesture similar to eye-rolling.

"So... so wait..." Carly attempted yet again to wrap her head around the situation, this time a bit more successfully regaining some composure. "Who are you guys? _What _are you? And what is going on?!"

"We're called Autobots," Tracks explained. "We're from the planet Cybertron, which was destroyed in our war with the Decepticons - others, like us. I recently received a transmission from our leader Optimus Prime inviting Autobots to join him, here, on Earth, and fight the Decepticon menace. And that is exactly what I intend to do. And," the Trans-Am scooted around to face Sideswipe, "that's what you should do too. Prime sent Arcee after you, you know."

"No can do, prissybot," the silver mech answered nonchalantly. "I came to California to find Sunstreaker. I'm not leaving til I do. Arcee and her sisters can frag themselves."

Naomi gave Raúl a look. "Well?"

"Don't look at me!" the boy threw up his hands defensively. "I don't know who Sunstreaker is either!"

"Now, wait just a minute!" Madison protested. "It doesn't matter to me _who _Sunstreaker is! You're my car, dammit! What about if I have places o get to, what about when I transfer to Berkeley next semester?"

"Then I'll find Sunny before that," Sideswipe shrugged. "Prissybot'll help me."

"Don't drag me into your problems!" Tracks protested. "I refuse to get involved!"

"Well, you got involved with my human, so you're involved. Too late. It's done."

The Trans Am slumped, making a noise oddly similar to a sigh - Madison couldn't help but notice it was the same thing Naomi did when she was forced to do something against her will. It creeped her out to see her best friend's behaviour mimicked by her car.

"I'm not your pet," she glared. "And I definitely don't want to get involved with those Decepticons."

The silver mech turned to her, optics flashing brightly before dimming to an almost-indigo, rather similar to Carly's eye colour. "As long as you stay with me, you won't have to worry about Decepticons. I'll protect you, I promise." Here, he held out a finger to the bewildered girl. "I'm not going to eat you, Madison."

She looked at the finger, hesitant, backing into Naomi for assurance. Surprisingly, this caused Naomi to walk up and place her hand on Sideswipe's finger.

"Naomi!" Madison gasped.

"What? Think of it as one last adventure before you transfer to Berkeley!"

Carly and Raúl exchanged looks, the first time either had really looked at each other, before both stepping up and placing their hands with Naomi's.

"I'd rather be involve with you than those putos in the gangs," Raúl smirked. "At least you guys got my back."

"I feel like a superhero!" Carly gushed, nodding her agreement.

"C'mon, Mad," Naomi urged the tiny brunette, who gave Sideswipe one last glare before joining her hand with the others.

"All, right!" Sideswipe grinned. "So, you in or out, prissybot."

"Rrrr... Fine!" Tracks gave in. "But stop calling me that insipid nickname! I have a proper designation, you know!"

"I know. Prissybot."

"I really hate you sometimes."

-_TBC-_

**I haven't been able to do this yet, but I meant to, I swear. I am very grateful to everybody who has favourited/alerted/reviewed this fic, both here and on deviantArt. But three people in particular have kept me going this far, as this is either the last or second-to-last of what I call the "intro" chapters, and I would like to acknowledge them here, now:**

**Meiza: You gave me what is possibly one of the best reviews I have ever had, on any website, for any story in any fandom. I was very, very reluctant to do anything with this story when this was just an idea, but typed up a first chapter anyway, thinking that I would do no more with it unless the bunny bit me again. But your review gave me complete confidence in this idea, and it's because of you that it got even a second chapter, let alone a third and fourth! Thank you, and I hope you enjoy where I take this.**

**Copper Arabian: It was you who convinced me to write this story in the first place, remember? Without your encouraging words and patience for me bouncing all my ideas off you to decide which are includable and which aren't, this wouldn't exist. You've been a huge help to me so far and I hope you continue to put up with my bullshit and be my main muse for this.**

**Lecidre: Wow, I was so starstruck when I saw that you had read and reviewed this; I certainly didn't expect you to like something by little old me! But I'm so happy you do; to be perfectly honest, I must confessed I had wished you would like it since I admire you so much as a person... Well, I'll continue to write, and I hope you continue to enjoy it.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Long wait, short chapter, and for that I'm sorry. Really I have no excuse. I refuse to bother with one. Besides, I tried my best to make this chapter wonderful to make up for it. Did I succeed? I don't know, but damn, I tried. HARD.**

**A big HUGE special thanks to :devkyriea: (The blonde with the kiwi) for helping me to write the battle scene. It wouldn't have been half as good without her!**

**Transformers (c) Hasbro, Madison and Naomi (c) me.**

--

"Carly, your drinks are at the bar! Carly!" the young Barista shouted out. It was 6 in the morning, and after the rather eventful night before, the four humans had decided that before embarking on their "mission" they needed Starbucks and real clothes, rather than PJs. And the coffee was an obvious priority. Raúl would have protested, but Carly had bought him a breakfast sandwich there as well, and he couldn't remember the last breakfast he'd eaten that wasn't dug out of a trash can.

"You sure you don't want anything else?" Naomi watched Madison grimace as she took a sip of her coffee.

"I'm not hungry," the brunette insisted.

"I meant like sugar in your coffee. I know you hate bitter things."

"They're out of Splenda, so no."

Naomi rolled her eyes. "You're so picky! There's no difference!"

"Is so. And can we sit down for a few minutes?"

"Uh..." Carly looked out into the parking lot where a Corvette and a Trans-Am sat parked side-by-side. "I guess a few minutes won't hurt. So I can eat my oatmeal and text Uncle Ben that you picked up Sideswipe."

Before she had even finished that sentence, Naomi and Madison had plopped down at a nearby table where someone had left a newspaper, which the brunette immediately started skimming. Shrugging, Raúl joined them, making sure not to sit within kicking distance of Naomi. Carly gave one last apologetic look to the Autobots outside, not sure if they could even see her in their vehicular modes, and sat down as well.

"Any good articles?" Carly asked Madison.

"Mmm. Egyptian government's doing something at Deir el-Bahri."

"Where's that?" Raúl raised an eyebrow.

Naomi gave him a look that very clearly showed how little she still thought of him. "Egypt. Duh. Didn't you learn that in high school?"

Embarrassed, Raúl glared, hoping his tan hid the blush creeping up his cheeks. "I didn't finish high school..."

"You chose to live in the streets instead?" Naomi looked sceptical.

"Why the hell would I _choose _to live in the streets?!" The boy exclaimed. "FYI, mi papá kicked me out, okay? So get off my back! Ay!"

The blonde was silent for a few minutes before looking away. "I'm sorry... I didn't know that..."

"Guys, guys," Carly attempted to ease the tension. "Let's not start any unneeded drama, okay? We need to stick toge-"

"What the hell?" Madison piped up, interrupting Carly.

"What?" Naomi looked over at the picture splashed across the page, which had caused her best friend's sudden confusion. "I don't see anything, Mad, it's just like any other Egyptian painting. People standing in profile, loads of hieroglyphics..."

"No, _that_," the brunette pointed at the picture, "is not any hieroglyph I know!"

"You know hieroglyphs?" It was Raúl's turn to be sceptical.

"I'm gonna be an Egyptology major - I can't read them yet, but I know that isn't one," Madison looked sheepish as she flashed her Cartouche she always wore in honour of her chosen major. Carly looked over at the paper as well, curiosity now piqued.

"It is kinda weird looking..." she gasped. And it was. While most of the hieroglyphs in the photograph looked like birds or papyrus or various other things found in Ancient Egypt, a select few looked almost alien. Random curves and lines that didn't seem to form any image at all but still had their own, distinct beauty - those were definitely not any hieroglyphics that Carly had ever seen!

Before the 4 could speculate any further on the strange glyphs, though, a car alarm went off in the parking lot. More specifically, a Corvette car alarm. Madison looked frazzled and Naomi rolled her eyes.

"Your car sure is impatient, Mad."

"Can you really blame him?" Carly asked in Sideswipe's defence as she got up. "All he wants is to find that Sunstreaker."

Naomi shrugged as she and Raúl both got up after Carly, while Madison ripped the picture out of the paper, shoved it hastily in her pocket, and followed the others out to the cars.

--

"Ay, man, scoot over so I can ride shotgun!"

"No," Naomi shot back to the backseat, where the homeless Hispanic youth was pouting. Next to them on the street behind Golden Gate Park, in a silver Corvette, Madison and Carly sat calmly. "I'm not sitting in the driver's seat. You can if you want, but I refuse."

"¿Por qué no?" Raúl muttered as he scrambled into the driver's seat, rolling his eyes.

"..._what?_"

"Uh, sorry, habit. Why not, man?"

"Stop calling me 'man'!" the girl demanded. "I'm not a man! And besides, I already told you, I'm not sitting there while he's _driving_! It seems... rude!"

"You're nothin' but a spoiled uptown girl, you know that? Why do you always get shotgun?"

"He's my car. Which you stole. Remember that?"

Raúl pouted. She was right, as she always had to be. Women!

"Are you two done with your petty bickering yet? You're making my CPU ache," Tracks complained, voice syrupy smooth as ever through the speakers. "I mean, for Primus's sake, give each other a chance! I wouldn't be driving you two around if I didn't think you were both great people."

Thinking this over for a minute, Naomi sighed and offered a hand to Raúl. "Truce"

"...do I get shotgun next time if I say yes?"

Naomi smiled, about to agree to this when the Trans-Am suddenly swerved wildly, causing the teens to be smashed to the passenger window.

"What the hell, man?!" Raúl yelped, and Naomi tugged his sleeve. When he turned to her, he saw her terrified eyes focused in front of them. Following her gaze, he saw what had caused Tracks to swerve: two bulky, red-opticed Decepticons. Before he could react, a third Decepticon grabbed Tracks by the bumper and dragged him back a few yards, slamming the two humans inside him to the dashboard.

"Nn," Naomi lifted her head groggily, bringing a hand up gingerly to where she felt a bruise forming.

"Get out!" Tracks threw his doors open, thrashing all the while as he tried to escape this ambush. "Get out and get off the road!"

Not thinking at all, Raúl jumped out, pulling Naomi through the driver's side's door. The two rolled onto a nearby lawn, stopping when Raúl hit a tree just in time to watch Tracks transform and punch the Decepticon who had grabbed him in what the humans could only guess was its jaw.

"Raúl, Naomi, get out of here!" Tracks yelled, throwing the shortest Decepticon, only to be grabbed again around the neck by another of the three.

"Incoming!" a familiar voice yelled, and suddenly Sideswipe was behind Tracks, wrestling the Decepticon off the Trans-Am. Carly and Madison nearby began to run across the street to meet Naomi and Raúl, but were thrown back by the force with which Sideswipe threw the Decepticon to the ground, and instead ran in another direction upon getting up, pushing aside a frightened blonde pedestrian eating a kiwi.

The fruit rolled out into the road, and the third Decepticon, this one wide and green, tripped on his way over to the Corvette. Swiftly, Sideswipe whipped himself around on his wheeled feet and with a sickening nails-on-chalkboard sound, slashed this green 'con right through the chest. Retracting his blades, the Autobot watched as the Decepticon fell.

Raúl and Naomi grimaced, then shrieked when the shortest Decepticon appeared beside them, croaking in a devilish-sounding, alien language, and then in heavily-accented English:

"The coordinates, meatbags. Hand them to me."

"I-I don't know what you're talking about!" Naomi stammered.

"Do not _toy _with me, fleshworm!" The Decepticon lunged forward.

"Naomi!" Tracks exclaimed, jumping on this Decepticon and pounding it's head to the dirt as Raúl pulled the shrieking blonde to safety.

"You can't freeze up like that, or he'll kill you," Raúl lectured her as they ran. Naomi only nodded, struggling to breathe.

"Scrapper!" The other living Decepticon, holding the body of his fallen comrade. "Retreat!"

"But-"

"RETREAT!"

And, as soon as it had began, the fight was over.

"Yeah, you better run, miserable 'cons!" Sideswipe shouted into the air as the two Decepticons that had survived escaped with the third 'con's corpse. Raúl and Naomi caught their breath and limped over to where the Autobots stood triumphant, if a bit dented.

"Er, Sideswipe?" Tracks began delicately. "You didn't happen to see where Carly went, did you?"

"She's gone!" Naomi exclaimed. "And so is Madison!"

_-tbc-_


	6. Chapter 6

**Another long wait, another short chapter. Sorry, I'm so burned out from NaNoWriMo and finals... But enjoy anyway. I promise next chapter will be longer.**

**Transformers (c) Hasbro, Madison and Naomi (c) me.**

--

Madison didn't remember losing consciousness, but she must have, because here she was regaining it, with a massive headache to boot. Not that she knew where "here" was, as she couldn't see a damn thing. Her mouth tasted like she'd licked the bottom of a birdcage or something, so she spat. It didn't help.

"Madison?" A higher-pitched voice than hr own resounded through the darkness. "Are you okay?"

"Uh, Carly, right?" She answered. "My side hurts and I've got a fat headache. You?"

"I think I sprained my ankle." A low rumble. "And I'm hungry."

"We're gonna die, aren't we?" Madison slumped against what felt like a dank, slimy wall.

"No. Not yet at least," Carly answered, doing her best to be the optimist she'd always been. "I think if the Decepticons wanted us dead, they could easily kill us. I mean, have you seen them?" Her stomach growled again, this time more insistent. "Of course, we could starve if they don't feed us soon. Aren't you hungry?"

"No," Madison lied.

"But you didn't eat breakfas-"

"Carly, how can you think of food at a time like this?!" Madison exclaimed. The other girl didn't answer. Both sighed, and didn't say a word for what could have been anywhere from a few seconds to a few hours.

Finally, Carly spoke up again,"We need to figure out a way out of this, Madison."

"How?" the brunette snorted. "Do you see any windows or anything to climb out of? No way. They have us trapped like a spider in a bathtub."

Carly shuddered at the analogy. "Well, I mean, there has to be some way-"

"If you think of one, feel free to try it, but it probably won't work."

"You know, it wouldn't kill you to be a little nicer! At least I'm trying to stay hopeful!"

"Headache," Madison reminded her cellmate. "And... sorry, I guess."

Carly blinked in the dark, a bit taken aback by the quiet apology. But before she could think of a proper reply, the girls heard the sound of metal on stone, getting slowly, slowly closer. Someone was coming.

Finally, red light pierced the darkness, and the girls squinted, eyes slow to adjust. The bright lights - like evil eyes - illuminated part of a spiky robot face. A Decepticon, no doubt.

"Who are you and why are you keeping us here?" Carly demanded right away. Madison buried her face in her palms, muttering.

"My, my," the deep voice sounded amused. "Aren't we cocky? You do realise I can kill you with the toes on my feet, do you not?"

Carly glared, but the meaning of the expression was lost on the robot.

"As for who I am, you may call me Dreadwind - not that this information will benefit you by the end of the hour."

"Wh-what happens at the end of the hour?" Madison gulped nervously.

"Oh, by then we hope to have gotten the coordinates from you, and you'll no longer be of use to us. I only hope Lord Megatron gives me the pleasure of... disposing of you two. I've always wanted to see what the inside of an organic looks like."

"Coordinates..." the brunette muttered. "One of your stupid friends said something about coordinates - we don't know what you mean by that!"

"A bit of advice, girls - not smart to play coy with someone who can kill you in .625 seconds, give or take a couple nanoclicks."

"But we really don't have any coordinates!" Carly protested.

"Lies!" Dreadwind's eyes blazed. "Do not try my patience, meatbags - you will not like the results! We have it on record that you discussed the coordinates just this morning as you had that brown sludge."

"Brown sludge... coffee?" Carly figured it out first. "But we didn't talk about anything important when we had coffee, did we? Naomi argued with Raúl a bit, and you were reading about that thing in Egyp- oh..."

"Oh, that?" Madison gingerly reached for her pocket, wincing as she moved - she could feel a nasty bruise. She pulled out the crumpled-up article on Deir-el-Bahri. "But it's just a newspaper article - you could get it anywhere!"

"Yes," the Decepticon nodded, "that is true. But you have something that your newspapers do not."

Carly could feel her heart trying to escape her ribcage as she asked, timidly, "What?"

"The _key_," Dreadwind's right hand - if the two, long rods could be called that - began to glow, pulling Madison slowly through the air towards it. The brunette screamed.

"Is that a magnet?!" Carly could feel her eyes bugging out of her head, for an extremely powerful and precise magnet, pulling Madison by the iron in her blood, seemed the most logical explanation. Either that or she'd watched the "X-Men" movies too many times. Not knowing what else to do, she silently prayed for some sort of deus ex machina, and watched, powerless, as Dreadwind grabbed Madison in his normal hand, pinning her too it with his magnetic rod hand.

Madison gasped as he scratched her shoulder with the tip of one of his fingernails, feeling her blood run down into - what? She could hear it dripping into something, but couldn't turn and look.

"M-my blood?" she whispered.

Dreadwind replied, "Yes. And one more thing." One of his two rods poked her neck and then withdrew quickly - Madison heard a snap and felt a sudden emptiness. Then he dropped her unceremoniously and left the two girls to wait out the rest of the hour - he had what he wanted.

"My cartouche!" Madison protested.

"Didn't you get that at a flea market?" Carly wondered out loud. "But why on earth do they need it?"

"It doesn't matter!" the shorter girl exclaimed. "It's mine! I paid for that!"

The blonde sighed, unsure what she could say or do besides pray some more.

-_tbc-_


End file.
